


Benri-kun, “Mr. Useful”*

by junko



Series: the distance between us [20]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 05:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still cut-up about Byakuya, Renji tries (and fails) to distract himself with Mastumoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Benri-kun, “Mr. Useful”*

**Author's Note:**

> *According to _Japanese Street Slang_, a type of boyfriend trendy Japanese girls of the 90s kept at their beck and call. Benri-kun, “Mr. Useful” was that guy you call to put together your IKEA furniture, fix the leaky faucet, or carry your stuff.

 

Renji didn’t see Byakuya the rest of the day. Not that he really expected to; the captain seemed to go into seclusion at times like this, when things were tense between them. Meanwhile, the Third Seat tut-tutted around, irritated at having to re-do that paperwork on the weekend’s drunken disorderlies. Renji ignored him. It was the right decision. His only regret was that it hadn’t provoked Byakuya more.

“I don’t know why I’m bothering,” the Third Seat grumbled, using a counting tray to calculate pay cuts. “The captain will never sign off on these.”

“He will,” Renji said. “Listen, if he was going to kick up a fuss he wouldn’t be hiding. He only pulls that shit when he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to admit it.”

The Third Seat’s mouth hung open, agape.

“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true,” Renji said, with a stretch and a yawn. “I’m out of here; I’ve got a date tonight.”

#

 

Turns out Matsumoto just wanted to use Renji. His muscles, specifically, to haul party supplies from the Women’s Association Hall to the Fourth Division. Still, it was all right. The earlier rain made the evening air cool and crisp, and Matsumoto was good company, chattering happily as they made their final trip back for the last of the things.

Renji discovered that, with Matsumoto, his arms were never empty. Either they carried her boxes and crates, or she wrapped herself into one or the other of them as they walked. Right now she was tucked up against him, having somehow managed to get him to throw an arm around her shoulders. If anyone saw them like this, they’d certainly mistake them for lovers. The idea didn’t seem to bother Matsumoto in the least, and Renji found himself both baffled and a bit flattered. After all his dalliances with Byakuya he’d forgotten what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t all twitchy about touching or being seen in public with him.

As if on cue, she asked, “So, how was cherry blossom viewing at the Imperial Palace with Captain Kuchiki?”

“Onerous,” was all Renji could think to say.

“He made you work the whole time?”

“No, not really, but he only brought me to scare away his aunt and her bevy of suitors,” Renji said, a half-lie. And, despite himself, he smiled grimly at the memory. It had been sort of fun to freak out the Kuchiki aunt. If only the other one hadn’t been such a jerk.

“You didn’t have a good time at all?”

Renji’s mind couldn’t help but recall that first night, tucked in bed beside Byakuya, feeling like he could have stayed there, like that, forever. He shook his head to banish the sudden sharp ache in his chest. “Ultimately, it ranks as one of the worst weekends of my entire life.”

She looked up at him for a long moment, as if trying to imagine just how bad that would have to be given his experiences so far. “Wow,” she said finally. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. They’d gotten back to the Women’s Hall and he untangled from her in order to hold the door open.

“And they say the Eleventh produces no gentlemen,” she teased him for his gallant gesture. “Or is Byakuya rubbing off on you?”

Renji just grunted at that since he didn’t trust himself not to say something bitter. He stood off to one side as she fluttered about, gathering the last of the things they’d need for the surprise birthday party.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully as she dropped a box into his hands and started to fill it, “I’ve always wondered about you two. I mean, talk about an odd couple. You’re so…” she frowned into Renji’s face as if trying out several other adjectives before settling on, “… friendly and he’s so… distant. How do you even get along with him?”

Renji wondered which words she would have chosen if she hadn’t been so clearly trying to be tactful. Hot/cold? Passionate/indifferent? Ruffian/aristocrat? Decent/ fucked-up?

He shrugged, trying to push away his mounting anger. “Eh, sometimes we don’t.”

“I couldn’t work with him _at all_ ,” she admitted, as she came back with a few more things to balance on top of the growing pile inside the box. “I don’t think he’s ever even acknowledged my presence. I’m always friendly and I wave and I say hello, but I’m not sure he even sees me. He makes me feel… small and invisible… like I’m not worth his time.”

Renji didn’t think many men ignored Matsumoto. It must feel very strange, indeed, to have Byakuya blank her so completely. Anyway, she had his sympathy. He knew exactly what it felt like: wishing he’d look up, deign to even glance in your direction. “Don’t take it personally,” Renji said. “He’s like that with everyone. I watched him ice out a member of the royal family. At least he’s never referred to you as garbage to your face. He’s done that to my friends.”

“No!”

“Oh yeah,” Renji said. “The fact that he only just ignores you means he kind of likes you.”

“Seriously?” she asked with a horrified look.

Renji just nodded sadly.

Tucking the last bit of supplies into the overflowing box, she headed out. This time, since she was only carrying a small bundle of chopsticks, she held the door for him. “Do you ever wonder what was going through Byakuya’s head when he picked you, his polar opposite, to be his lieutenant?”

“All the time,” Renji said. “All the time.”

 

#

The party itself was sort of low-key, partly due to the location. It was hard to be raucous in what was essentially the hospital ward. Isane Kotetsu, whose birthday they were celebrating, was really pretty shy as well. Plus, her captain, Retsu Unohana, showed up and, even though she just sat quietly off in one corner softly smiling at all the proceedings and slowly nursing a beer, it was difficult to cut loose in her calm, staid presence.

However, it was a testimony to Matsumoto’s popularity how many people stopped by throughout the evening… and how many men hung around, looking crestfallen whenever she asked Renji to go fetch something for her.

Shūhei Hisagi actually intercepted Renji on his way to retrieve more beer. Hisagi stood over him at the back steps, with his arms crossed, not saying anything. Renji crouched to dig through the crate, waiting for Hisagi to get to the point. Renji was getting really fed up with men who wouldn’t say what was on their minds.

“What’s up, Hisagi?” Renji finally asked, tossing a bottle at him to carry.

Hisagi caught it without blinking, or really even taking his gaze off Renji. In the evening light, his spiky hair, leather studded armbands, and exposed biceps made an imposing silhouette. He turned the bottle over in his hands a few times like testing the heft of a weapon. “Are you dating Ms. Rangiku?”

“Dude, I’m still calling her Matsumoto. You got nothing to worry about here.”

Hisagi continued to frown, as if he were skeptical.

Renji sighed, sitting back on his heels a little. “Listen, between you and me and the wall, even if she’s interested, I’m not. If I hit that, it would just be rebound sex. I’d end up breaking her heart. I can’t do that to someone else right now.”

“Oh,” Hisagi seemed surprised and relieved by Renji’s honest answer. “Okay, good.”

Renji gave Hisagi a mischievous grin. “You got any ink you’re not showing?”

“No, why?”

“Too bad. I think tats might be a turn on for her.” Renji grabbed as many bottles as he could carry, and stood up. “Still, sixty-nine, eh? You’re kind of a walking come-on.”

“Uh,” Hisagi made a little shocked, choking sound, which he tried to cover with a cough. “That’s not what it means.”

Renji shouldered past him to the door, “Huh. Really? Wow, that’s some serious false advertising, man. You must disappoint a lot of people.” But then he stopped himself, and added apologetically over his shoulder, “That wasn’t cool. I should know what it's like.  People always see what they want to, don’t they?”

 

#

When Renji and Hisagi rejoined the party, there was a bit of a commotion as Captains Kyōraku and Ukitake arrived, followed closely by Ukitake’s two constantly bickering Third Seats: Kiyone Kotetsu and Sentarō Kotsubaki.

Handing over the refreshments to Matsumoto, Renji leaned into her ear, “Oi, you invited captains?”

“I invited everyone,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t think any of the captains would actually come!”

Renji gave Matsumoto a disbelieving shake of his head as she rushed forward to play hostess to the captains. She should have known that these two were too kindhearted not to at least make an appearance. And, what did she think, given that one of Ukitake’s Third Seats was the guest of honor’s sister?

Ukitake seemed to have brought a plate of treats to share, and, meanwhile, Kyōraku was waving Renji over to help him and Kotsubaki roll in a couple of gigantic wooden casks of sake. “In honor of the birthday girl, I broke out my Junmai Daiginjō-shu—made of very pure rice, an extremely fine vintage,” Kyōraku explained as they found a place to set the barrels. “Everyone has to try it!”

After depositing his tray on a table, Ukitake leaned in and touched Renji’s arm as if sharing a secret, “Don’t let his generous bluster fool you. He didn’t really want to part with them, but even such a hollow leg as my dear Shunsui couldn’t drink all of that before it goes sour.”

Kyōraku leaned against the table, acting as if hauling the barrels exhausted him. He waved his straw hat in front of his face. “It’s true. I’m afraid I’ve been hoarding the Junmai Daiginjō-shu selfishly, like a miser and his gold, but another month and it’ll be well past its prime. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s wasting a good brew.”

Once the casks were tapped, the party began in earnest.

 

#

Even though the party started to liven up, Renji stayed very mindful of how much alcohol he consumed. If Byakuya busted him crawling back to the Division drunk off his ass the irony would be crushing, and possibly job-killing. And, he certainly didn’t want to give Byakuya any opportunity to lord anything over him.

Craving a little quiet and cool air, he’d moved out on to the porch. The steps he sat on overlooked what would be in any other division the practice yard. Here at the Fourth it had been transformed into a meditative space that doubled as a medicinal herb garden. Moonlight shone on the pink-white blossoms of a single cherry tree, which had clearly been decked out for the weekend’s festivities. The paper lantern strings sagged limply, having been brought down and tattered by the rain.

 _Sad_.

He took another careful sip of Kyōraku’s sake. Damn, but it was good. Very potent, too. It wouldn’t take much to get really shit-faced, which probably explained all the girlish giggling and squealing coming from inside. From the sounds of things, if Hisagi played his cards right, he was sure to get lucky. Matsumoto might not even notice the bait and switch.

Soft footfalls had Renji glancing over his shoulder. Izuru Kira tipped a sake cup at him, “Can I join you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Renji patted the spot next to him on the steps.

Kira perched primly on the edge of the wooden step, his knees together. He balanced the sake bowl at their apex and hunched over it. The darkness brought out the lines under his eyes, and made his thin features seem extra sharp. The light from inside made his blond coif glow around the edges, like a golden halo. “I stopped by the Sixth this weekend and the Third Seat told me you and the captain were away, uh, together.”

Renji glanced at his friend. He knew what Kira was asking, but he had no idea how to answer him. Plus, as much as he liked Kira, he didn’t entirely trust him not to repeat whatever they discussed to Ichimaru.

“Does this mean you worked things out?” Kira asked when Renji didn’t offer anything.

“No,” Renji admitted. “If anything, things are worse. Way worse.”

“Oh.”

They sat for a while in silence. A pale crescent hung in the inky sky. Renji glanced up at the cool and distant moon and sighed. “I told him I loved him.”

Kira nearly choked on the sake he was sipping.

Renji laughed darkly, “Yeah, that was kind of his reaction, too.”

Once Kira got his breathing back under control, after a coughing fit, he peered into Renji’s face with wide eyes. “Is it true?”

That wasn’t the response Renji was expecting. He thought Kira might offer sympathy or some wise I’ve-been-there advice. He scratched at the back of his neck, and then shrugged, “I thought so, but what do I know? I’ve never been in love with a guy before. Hell, I’m not sure I’ve _ever_ been in love. What about you? You in love with—“Renji stumbled, his brain resisting forming the conjunction of Kira and Ichimaru—“yours?”

Kira blinked, and then he seemed to draw deeper into himself. His eyes grew sad and hooded, and his voice hollow. “No.”

Renji set his bowl of sake down, and put a hand on Kira’s back. He could feel the tension of Kira’s muscles, taut like a bow string ready to snap. Kira’s reistsu, always so heavy and dark, seemed to shrink and shrivel. “‘No’? Then what’s going on between you two?”

“He needs me,” Kira said, his voice a whisper.

_Something here is not right._

At Renji’s hip, Zabimaru rumbled a sort of protective, warning growl. Renji was filled with an overwhelming desire to smack Ichimaru around for whatever the hell he was doing to Kira behind closed doors. Renji wanted to tell Kira that if Ichimaru was hurting him, he’d happily kill that fox-faced prick for him, but he couldn’t insult his friend. Kira was a strong, capable warrior; he wouldn’t let Ichimaru push him around, would he?

But, then look at how stupid he’d been for Byakuya; how much he’d been willing to take on his knees.

Maybe this was what men did to each other.

From inside, he could hear the deep belly laugh of Captain Kyōraku, followed by some reply of Captain Ukitake that elicited even more laughter. _Okay_ , Renji amended, _except, somehow, those two_.

Perhaps the lesson was: don’t date your captain. Pick someone in Academy and stick with them for thousands of years.

The person he would have picked in Academy was Rukia. Maybe, when she came back from her tour in the human world, he’d tell her that.

He’d been absently rubbing Kira’s back this whole time. They both seemed to notice the casual intimacy at the same time, and Renji pulled his hand away as Kira shrugged out from under it. Feeling suddenly awkward, Renji stood up, “Uh, oh…. Um, it’s late. I should go.”

 

#

Renji went over the wall rather than back through the party proper. Even though he felt like a bit of a heel for not making his goodbyes, he was afraid that if Matsumoto saw him, she’d cling to him like wet paper, and then he’d have to be really creative to keep from falling into bed with her. Even though her massive powers of persuasion might be dampened by alcohol, Renji still didn’t trust himself not to just end up going along with whatever. Plus, maybe this way Hisagi had a chance.

He took the long way back to the Division barracks, trying to walk off the day’s weirdness. There was a lot to process. Was it really only this morning that he’d had to deal with Byakuya’s cruelty and the disapproving glares of all those nobles? Afterwards, there was the exhausting march home in the downpour and all the hassle of springing the weekend’s disorderlies. Then Matsumoto stirred up all his feelings about Byakuya, and Kira just left him in utter despair that any man could ever have a decent relationship with another.

The streets were eerily empty. Here and there were signs of the recent holiday-- a boarded up food cart proclaiming cherry-flavored treats of all sorts and strings of paper blossoms strung across the street—all of it dampened and spoiled by the earlier rain. The moon shone indifferently down, cool and distant in its lofty position in the sky.

By the time Renji climbed the stairs to his quarters, it was quite late. He was tired and more than ready for bed.

When his hand grabbed the door to slide it open, he suddenly stopped. A familiar spiritual pressure swirled patiently on the other side.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back, Renji.”

He slid door wide open to discover Byakuya waiting for him, sitting at the edge of his narrow bed.

 


End file.
